Roughly two years ago I had a great plan. I would grow my own sage for smudging and maybe even give away a few sticks to friends.

It went so wrong.

FLASH FORWARD to now. With excitement bursting from every place in my being I approached my now full to the brim, garden bed of sage. Carefully I chopped off the messy overgrow bits and bound them into little bundles for burning. After patiently waiting a few days for the bundles to dry out I plucked the first bunch from the pot. I had grown this from seeds. It was a grand moment. As I lit the little bundle, I sniffed the air quizzically. A unpleasant smell filled the kitchen.

My little bundle of stink next to the real deal.

You can not just burn any old sage.

I was so disappointed as I rushed to extinguish the pungent stick of burning dreams. I am now using the crop to make sage tea. So it’s not so bad. I am boldly going forth, using all the information gained in the first round to try again. This time with white sage. Why I didn’t do that to start with I will never know.

It was a warm night. I had a few candles scattered around. A cheap glass of red was cradled in my left hand and a mini keyboard in my right. I didn’t actually have a plan. I was just randomly playing notes, messing with the pitch slide (not sure that that’s what that is even called) and doing what felt right.

Here are the results. I have since used this track for meditating, ambiance at dinner parties and falling asleep.